


attention from a girl

by mr_charles



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, OOC-ish, The Talk, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:09:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2609681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_charles/pseuds/mr_charles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred could handle a lot of things. Bruce's budding attraction to girls was not one of those things. Cue Detective Gordon giving Bruce "The Talk"</p>
            </blockquote>





	attention from a girl

**Author's Note:**

> this is for Kate

Fighting Alfred could do. Shit, even the burning and cutting and leaping off roofs he could do. He was in the military— he’d seen young men do what they had to to prove they were strong. He had been serving the Wayne family for longer than he could remember— he’d seen almost everything. He could handle almost anything.

Except for…well…puberty. When Bruce was flinging himself off the roof or punching bullies, Alfred could swat him on the mouth, tell him firmly he shouldn’t be doing that, and move on. Except today they’re at lunch with Detective Gordon and his socialite fiancée Barbara and when Bruce isn’t poking at the detective for information, he’s gawking at Barbara. 

Alfred would be the first to admit that yes, Miss Kean is quite pretty but it’s taking all his willpower not to lean over the pristine white tablecloth and flick young Master Bruce as if he were a misbehaving cat.

Speaking of cats, Alfred had noticed how Bruce flushed and squeaked whenever that street urchin of a girl managed to break into the manor and pester Bruce to come play with her. Alfred had remembered being that age and tormenting and being tormented by a classmate named Joan. He yanked at her braids and she stole his lunch but nothing ever came of it. It was just harmless fun.

But Barbara is wearing a gorgeous silver necklace that hangs low and Alfred is almost certain that Bruce isn’t that interested in her trinkets. Jim is starting to notice.

“So Bruce,” Jim says louder than he should. The boy jumps and his ears turn the color of the wine in Barbara’s glass. “How’s school going?”

School is fine,” he says, a slight waver to his voice and his eyes dart up to Gordon’s face. “Although I wish Alfred would have let me be homeschooled.” 

“I’m sure it’s great for you to be with your friends,” Barbara says gently. “Plus I don’t think there are any girls when you’re homeschooled.” She winks playfully.

“Alfred, I think we should go home so I can start on my geometry,” Bruce announces suddenly and practically runs from the table. Alfred pays for the meal and then follows the boy to the car. As soon as they get to the manor, Bruce locks himself in his bedroom for the rest of the day. 

 

Two days later, Alfred picks up Bruce from school. He’d gotten a call from the temporary president of Wayne Industries and wants to run the details of the Arkham Housing Project past Bruce before Bruce snoops it out of him. 

“He said that the low-income housing would be available to all residents of Gotham, regardless of any inc—“ 

Bruce isn’t listening. He’s watching an older female classmate bend to pick up her book bag. Alfred swats him on the head. “Alfred!”

“Listen, if you’re going to stare at lasses, that’s your own deal,” Alfred says quietly. “But can you at least try and be subtle with it?”

A pause. “It’s obvious?”

Alfred wants to roll his eyes at the boy. “Just get in the car.”

 

Alfred calls Jim that night after Bruce is put to bed. 

 

“You’re going to lunch with Detective Gordon at 12:30 this afternoon,” Alfred says on a bright Saturday morning.

“Does he have more information on my parents?” Bruce asks hopefully.

“He has some information for you.”

Gordon picks Bruce up at a quarter to one and drives the both of them to a greasy diner. Bruce wrinkles his nose as the scuffed linoleum and sticky table that a gum-smacking waitress seats them at. 

“Two triple bacons, two fries, and two cherry cokes,” Gordon orders smoothly. 

“Do you have any information on my parents’ killer?” Bruce asks, avoiding placing his elbows or hands on the table. 

“That’s not why we’re here?”

“Alfred told me you needed…a talk.” Gordon says awkwardly. 

Bruce pales. “Is this about the fighting?”

“No it’s— wait, what fighting? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine!” Bruce says a little too quickly. “I’m fine.”

“No, I’m here to talk to you about girls.” Gordon says and Bruce’s face slowly turns pink. “I noticed when we were out the other day, you were…staring at Barbara.”

“Miss Kean is a very lovely woman.”

“How old are you, Bruce? Twelve? Thirteen? I know you’re the heir to Wayne Enterprises but you’re also young and a boy and I doubt that you just think Barbara is lovely,” Gordon says as their food arrives. “Now eat and ask me questions.”

Bruce says nothing, just neatly picks at the sagging hamburger in front of him.

“When I was 13, I had a crush on a girl named Michelle,” Gordon starts, “and one time I stared at her for so long that I actually started drooling.” Gordon laughs and looks at Bruce, who is happily wolfing down his burger. “Like full on drool. There was a puddle on my desk! And she told everyone I had a problem with my jaw and would spit and drool on people who got too close to me. Made gym class pretty terrible for awhile.”

“What happened?” Bruce asks. 

“I had a crush on a different girl a week later. And a different girl the week after that.” 

“So you had lots of crushes on lots of different girls?” 

Gordon nods. “What about you?”

 

Bruce talks about Molly, who sits next to him in biology. He awkwardly gestures about how much Elizabeth from his orchestra lessons grew outward over the summer. He tells Gordon about how Katherine from his advanced literature class kissed him quickly in the corner of a classroom three weeks before his parents were killed.

 

“So you’ve never done more than kissed a girl?” Gordon asks cautiously.

“No,” Bruce says, tilting his head in confusion. “Should I?”

“No! No, no, no, no.” Gordon stops to gather his thoughts. “See girls are— well they can be different that boys. Not all of them are. But some are more casual with things than others are. And that’s okay! Just… be safe.”

“Detective Gordon, are you telling me to use condoms?”

“Let’s not use that word, Bruce.” 

“Do you and Barbara use—“

“Alright! Let’s get you home!”

 

The drive back to the manor is surprisingly awkward. Gordon can tell Bruce is bursting with questions but is too prim and proper to ask them. Gordon doesn’t want to push any boundaries and have this afternoon be weirder than it already was. 

“Detective Gordon,” he says finally before he gets out of the car, “do you think we could do this again sometime?”

Gordon smiles. “Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> is it ooc? yeah. is it funny? hopefully.
> 
> comments, concerns, insults, and questions are encouraged.


End file.
